


aegroto dum anima est

by clionetiddies



Category: Riviera: The Promised Land
Genre: (ledah voice) what is "self-care", Angst, M/M, also some mentions of some nasty infected injuries, and major character death in the second lmfao, good feels in first end / chapter, reformation au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:35:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28814274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clionetiddies/pseuds/clionetiddies
Summary: How long had it been?
Relationships: Ecthel | Ein / Ledah Rozwelli, vaguely implied Ein / Fia in alt ending
Collections: Reformation AU





	1. omnia mutantur, nihil interit.

**Author's Note:**

> A [Reformation AU](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/asgardanew) fic in which Ledah, granted life anew but utterly lost without a purpose to strive for, wanders Utgard and experiences the consequences of his fall from grace... and meets some familiar faces along the way.  
> Contains two chapters, the second of which is actually an alternate ending and picks up part way through the fic.  
> This is a long time labor of love, and I'm honestly not the happiest w how both segments end, so there may be some tweaking in the future... But in the meantime, I hope you guys like it!

How long had it been?

It was impossible to tell. The days since had been spent absent of mind and of thought, aching feet carrying his weary body from place to place without care of destination. He wandered aimlessly, surroundings familiar but names forgotten (or simply too great a burden to recall), and retained little of his time in any one location. Ever moving, without thinking, without stopping to consider his situation more thoroughly. 

Once he had found himself beside a great, shimmering body of water – _a lake_ , his mind reminded him – and it was there that he had seen his reflection for the first time since he had awoken. His pale flesh had taken on a sickly hue, eyes bruised from countless nights without rest, and his wings… Those void-kissed feathers, once beheld with some semblance of pride, were unrecognizable in their deformity, a misshapen mass of pins and broken primaries.

Unsurprising, considering he hadn't paid them any mind as of late. Tending to his wellbeing had been a task taken up solely for the sake of performing his mission to the best of his abilities, and abandoned in his evident failure. What use were pristine wings to a fallen Angel?

Yet another time he had returned to that great lake, and fallen in – and eventually stumbled upon a cathedral, one that made the remnants of his mind stir with the memory of some old Asgardian tale. Stories of a city forgotten, built by angels stranded in exile… _Fallen_. The irony was not wasted on him. There behind he left a sacred weapon, plunged between the unsightly cracks in the stone, as a makeshift grave for an existence lost.

Now he finds himself elsewhere, a world of azure that tugs at his memory, shards of glass ( _the_ _Aquarium_ ) crunching beneath his feet as he idly follows the ever-growing sense of déjà vu upwards. In an instant he knows this place all _too_ well, its glow burned into the recesses of his mind… and a searing pain humbles him in his recollection, shooting in sparks through the damaged nerves and broken flesh marring his abdomen.

How long had it been since he had died?

He doesn’t recall what happened with any semblance of clarity, but even a fool could piece together what had occurred between the gaps in his memory. The Retribution had clearly failed – Riviera was still perfectly intact, its continued existence a mockery of his mission, thus it was only natural to assume what had befallen the Magus Hector and the Grim Angels below him. He supposed that should please him, considering that the task assigned to him had been revealed an affront to the Gods, a single man's vie for ascension, but there were bigger concerns at hand.

For instance, those hazy recollections of spilled viscera, of a sobbing, wingless angel hovering over him, hands clinging desperately to his as his vision blurred and darkened…

There was no doubt in his mind. He had died then, a casualty of the Grim Avenger.

And what had become of him since then?

He was… alive, surely. Hardly “living” – he had long since forgotten how to do so for himself, and with the death of his mission he had lost his purpose, leaving him as little more than a shambling husk. But he _was_ alive. The gaping maw in his abdomen had just barely scarred over, frequently reminding him of its presence as he moved and staining the torn fabric of his attire as it wept… yet he could feel the pulse underneath his fingertips, faint but steady, an affirmation of his continued existence.

 _Something_ had happened. Something dreadful. Something _fantastic_. Something capable of reversing Death Itself.

But the question of what – or who – could be responsible for upturning the very laws of life and death didn’t linger in the fallen Angel’s thoughts for long. His mind strayed, as it often did as of late, and instead fixated on the more personal matter of the… _repercussions_ he had faced upon his apparent revival.

Since his life as a vagrant had begun, he had been forced to submit to his hunger many a time, a burden once only a recommendation now a necessity. And when his stomach humbled him he ate, and he _tasted_ – and hated, even when the food was warm and the flavor acceptable. Choking down meals had become commonplace, and spitting them back up even more so – he was already ill-adjusted to eating properly and routinely, and his festering wound was utterly relentless, striking him with wave after wave of nauseating pain if he so much as considered keeping anything down.

As unpleasant as it was, this alone would have been bearable – but it seemed the Gods had determined it necessary that he suffer further for his ill-begotten life. While he had deeply considered simply lying down and allowing the accursed soil of the reformed Utgard to reclaim him, it had seemed an awful waste… and so he had resigned himself to an empty existence, of spending his remaining days even more hollow than he had been before. The life of a purposeless Angel. But even _this_ was too kind a punishment for him.

Though the comfortable numbness that had long since made itself at home in him still hung heavily over his shambling form, its influence had clearly weakened, and on occasion he had found himself… _feeling_ . They were never clear or distinct, merely stray sparks of misguided emotion he could not put words to… but to have them return at _all_ , even in such a minor capacity… was that not a cause for alarm? After all, were those feelings not what he had sacrificed for his Diviner to begin with?

Of course, this wasn’t the first time it had happened, if memory served. He hadn’t had time to particularly register it as he lay bleeding before his former partner, aching heart completely overwhelmed by the pain wracking his body in waves from the wound cleaved into his abdomen… but now, in his solitude, there was little to distract him from becoming increasingly aware of the unwelcome sensations. They were especially unpleasant now, settling deep in his chest and making each breath stressful as he ascended through the great tree's cerulean branches, though he couldn’t so much as begin to comprehend the feeling plaguing him. 

_You've fallen,_ his mind reminded him, quietly, yet piercingly loud through the comparative silence of his surroundings. _You're no longer fit to be a Grim Angel, so why should the Magi protect you? You even cast aside your Diviner…_

It was as reasonable an explanation as any, so he accepted it as blindly as he had accepted his mission before, trying (and somewhat succeeding) to ignore the twinge in his chest at the thought as he continued his upward ascent.

It isn’t long before the Angel finally reaches the destination he had sought out with an almost trance-like desperation… and it only takes a moment longer for him to spot something… _off_ about the scene before him.

Here too the ground was littered with the shattered glass of an Aquarium, and significantly discolored by the blood that had dried an indeterminable amount of time before. This place was where he had drawn his final breath, and later taken another, so while he had been fairly disoriented upon his revival, these details were familiar enough to him. But there was something else, something that _hadn’t_ been present when he had awoken for the first time after his death.

_… Flowers?_

Surely enough, laid atop that morbid display of broken barriers and bloodstains, were countless flowers, some gathered into neat bouquets and others loose but still organized in their presentation. A great many of them had fallen to time, browned and wilted or outright disintegrating from age, but those were overlaid with fresher tributes, green stems and fragile petals that hadn't yet given way. He quickly realized that this was a memorial, respects paid to the deceased – a tradition he had only taken part in once, a memory embedded deep within the recesses of his mind but familiar nonetheless. But who would have wasted their energy on something like this…?

The sound of approaching footsteps quickly put an end to those idle thoughts, and he turned quickly to face the intruder, reflexively reaching for his Diviner and grasping nothing before lowering his closed fist to his side. 

This would be his end. Surely some demon or stray beast, anything that would gladly take the chance to rend the flesh of an unarmed Angel, had taken notice of his presence. It was easy enough to accept his demise – he had already fallen once, after all. Dying at the hands of Utgard's children would be disgraceful, and likely agonizing, but if that was how the Gods wished to claim their does, then so be it. If they were kind, he would be returned to the soil quickly.

… But rather than finding himself faced with most certain death, the fallen Angel was met with a familiar face. One he hadn't expected to see again. 

He hadn't yet been noticed in kind, but before he could even consider taking action to avoid detection, the Wingless Angel raised his gaze from the bundle of flowers clutched tightly in his hands, and froze in place.

A moment passed in absolute stillness, neither daring to move or speak or even breathe, as though the slightest disturbance would shatter the illusion – then it ended just as abruptly, the bouquet spilling onto the floor as the defected Angel he had once considered his ally finally spoke.

“… Ledah…” 

The sound of Ein's voice woke something in his chest, a long-forgotten sensation which stirred, then writhed, coiling around and constricting his heart until it felt as though it would burst. 

It was as though the Gods had finally seemed to reclaim the breath he had undeservedly taken, if the overwhelming ache in his lungs were any indication – but that would not explain the painful lump in his throat, the way his eyes burned yet refused to give up the sight before him. He was left floundering, suffocated by this ill-begotten _emotion_ that overpowered even the final “gift" his ostracized sister had torn into his abdomen, and unable to offer his former partner anything more than the cold gaze he had surely once been accustomed to.

But then again, perhaps that was enough. The traitorous Angel took a single step forward, and then another, crushing the long forgotten petals of memoriam beneath his feet as he approached. His pace was steady, confident, yet there was no betraying the way he trembled, nor the glossy film over his tired eyes.

“It's really you, isn’t it…? Ledah…”

Ledah opened his mouth, then quickly shut it as his voice failed him, refusing to come forth after so much time of disuse. Shaky fingers graced the clammy skin of his cheek, sending the burning in his chest into an agonizing crescendo, yet he found himself welcoming of them, pressing lightly into Ein's palm as if to convey what his words could not.

“Thank goodness…” Ein laughed weakly, his face pained despite the smile he tried so desperately to maintain. “For the longest time, I thought that you… that you had…” 

His eyes wandered, and Ledah knew exactly what he was looking for before he even found it – proof that his memories had not lied to him, carved deep into his form by the Diviner Skadi. In an instant the façade crumbled, a single hiccuping sob escaping before being muffled as impulse overcame reason and the Wingless Angel was pulled tightly against his fallen companion.

Upon recognizing his odd behavior, Ledah stiffened up – he had abandoned such personal physical contact long before, and the odd sharpness in his chest that had moved him to draw his former enemy closer both confused and frustrated him – yet he could not bring himself to pull away, instead permitting Ein to collapse into his arms and drench his clothes with an inconceivable time's worth of unshed tears.

The sobbing gave way to an uneasy quiet, Ein still clinging to Ledah with all the strength he could muster in his trembling hands, and the two soon settled upon that makeshift memorial of flowers and glass.

"Sorry," Ein managed finally, voice strained and raw. "You never did like it when I let myself get carried away. You even said as much then, didn't you… That I've only ever been a nuisance. Things haven't changed much since then, huh…?"

Ledah didn't reply. It wasn't really a question, after all – and those weren't the answers Ein was looking for.

"Ledah… You _did_ die back then, didn't you…"

Another non-question. But this time, Ledah nods.

"… Then… Is this… Are _you_ real…?"

Ledah hesitated. He wasn't entirely sure himself whether or not he was real, or alive – but the time spent aimlessly wandering until then, the pain reverberating through his abdomen, and the warm form pressed up against his… these at least _feel_ real enough. He nods again, but not without uncertainty.

Ein sat up, and while the fallen angel did nothing to stop him, he found himself admittedly displeased with the loss of warmth.

"What will you do now, Ledah?" Ein paused. "I… don't know what happened, or why you're here, but… Hector is…"

"I know." 

His voice sounded strange, weakened by disuse, but Ein turned away immediately upon hearing it, unable to keep tears from welling up once more at the additional affirmation of his presence. 

"Then… where will you go…?" 

Ledah didn't answer immediately. He couldn't, of course. He had never thought this far ahead, never particularly considered where he was going. The idea of settling down in one place for the rest of his time in this world had never occurred to him until now, and even then it seemed a particular preposterous idea. 

Where would he even go? He hadn't had a home in Asgard since long before his time as a Grim Angel, before being laid to rest after Ragnarok's resolution and later awoken to actuate the so-called Retribution. There was nowhere _for_ him to go, even if he so chose.

Whether due to the silence, or some semblance of frustration leaking into Ledah's expression, Ein speaks up again.

"If… you wanted… I'm sure the Elder wouldn't mind helping you find a place. Or… you could stay with me…" He didn't meet Ledah's gaze, clearly aware of the issues inherent to such a proposal. "Elendia is really nice…"

To stay among the Sprites, amidst those he would have once readily slain to fulfill his purpose… It seemed even more ridiculous an idea than staying put altogether. Even if Ein had put in a good word for him during his "absence", surely they would not take kindly to hosting their former tormentors.

And yet… the idea was oddly tempting. Ledah couldn't quite place the emotion that slowly seeped into him at the mere concept, but it wasn't altogether unpleasant.

"... Perhaps… for a time."

Ein lit up immediately, turning to face him with notable surprise. He had to be sure to nip that overenthusiasm in the bud – it would be unfair to make promises he could not keep.

" _–But_. Perhaps not."

Ein deflates only slightly before nodding, largely undeterred. 

"Right. I'll need to discuss it with everyone first… I doubt it'll be a problem, but I don't want to take advantage of their hospitality, either." He paused, eyes wandering again to the gaping, weeping wound in Ledah's abdomen before he forcibly tears them away with a shudder. "... And we'll have to get you cleaned up, too…" 

Ledah understood his meaning – no one would be particularly receptive to a bloodstained stranger wandering into their town, spilling rot with every step and scarring their poor children for a lifetime – yet his wings twitched in response, and he found himself ever-so-slightly self conscious about their extreme state of disarray.

"Right. And even then…"

"I know." Ein smiled. "You don't have to stay, Ledah. I won't make you. I'm just… glad to have been able to see you again." He paused a moment, absently scooping up decayed petals and shards of glass into his fortunately gloved palms. "But if you do decide to stay… we might be able to figure out what caused this. Rose and I visited Asgard a few times, and… it's a mess, but the library is still mostly intact. There may be something there that can help us…"

Ledah nodded. It wasn't a terrible plan, at least to start. He doubted there would be anything like that available to public access, but… it was a start.

Or perhaps he was just making excuses.

Nevertheless, researching the matter would serve him well. At the very least, if he didn't receive an satisfactory explanation for his revival, it would be a more productive use of his time than wandering Utgard – or, Riviera, as Ein would surely correct him – with no goal or purpose.

Besides. Surely even this ill-begotten life was still held to the same restrictions as his life as a Grim Angel. Regardless of what he did… it was only a matter of time before he, and Ein, returned to the earth a final time.

He could only hope that his companion did not succumb to it before he could.

"Alright."

Ein beamed, and Ledah scowled, feeling that ache in his chest rise to new heights.

"Alright! I'll go back to Elendia and let everyone know!" He rose to his feet, then hesitated, looking down at Ledah again. "You… _will_ wait here, won't you…?"

The hint of fear in his eyes was unmistakable. Almost as if he was afraid Ledah would cease to exist should he leave.

He was truly hopeless after all. For the first time in countless years, Ledah smiled, ever so slightly.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Ein nodded slowly, clearly still a little uneasy, then smiled in return. His word would simply have to do.

"Okay. Then… I'll see you again soon, Ledah."

Before the fallen Angel could comprehend it, Ein's arms were around him, his head pressing comfortably into the crook of his neck as he embraced him with all the force he could muster. It lasted only a moment, giving him no opportunity to respond before the Wingless Angel separated from him, but that moment was enough for Ledah to be completely overwhelmed with complex feelings, one he was most certainly not equipped to handle or rationalize as things were. 

Ein offered him a small wave, one returned in kind, before taking his leave quickly, leaving Ledah to idle in the now silent Aquarium.

He wasn't entirely sure what to make of his thoughts. Part of him had already received the clarity of hindsight, and that part chastised him terribly for his decision – the opportunity to live a peaceful life, especially among the Sprites, was not something he deserved. It would be altogether better to return to wandering, rather than allow himself to indulge in a life long since beyond his reach.

And yet…

Another part of him, one that had become more and more prevalent in his mind, encouraged him to spend the new life he had been given differently than he had before. He was no longer a Grim Angel, but wasn't that all the more reason to abandon that way of thinking? Surely the Gods were giving him a second chance!

… Such an optimistic thought process was admittedly very uncomfortable for the Angel who had sacrificed his emotions, and he quickly shut it down, refusing to allow himself to think on it further. It wouldn't do him any good to get his hopes up. After all, it's altogether possible that Ein could return with terrible news… if he returned at all.

Yet as he waited there, settled upon the countless scattered offerings for a life that had long since met its end, a sense of warm contentment settled over him. It was a feeling that reminded him of times long forgotten, of nights spent curled up at his sister's side as their mother told them stories he never heard the end of. A peace he hadn't felt since one's demise and the other's departure.

Perhaps… living on like this wouldn't be too bad.


	2. omnia cum pretio.

The sound of approaching footsteps quickly put an end to those idle thoughts, and he turned quickly to face the intruder, reflexively reaching for his Diviner and grasping nothing before lowering his closed fist to his side. 

This would be his end. Surely some demon or stray beast, anything that would gladly take the chance to rend the flesh of an unarmed Angel, had taken notice of his presence. It was easy enough to accept his demise – he had already fallen once, after all. Dying at the hands of Utgard's children would be disgraceful, and likely agonizing, but if that was how the Gods wished to claim their does, then so be it. If they were kind, he would be returned to the soil quickly.

… But rather than finding himself faced with most certain death, the fallen Angel was met with a familiar face. One he hadn't expected to see again. 

He hadn't yet been noticed in kind, but before he could even consider taking action to avoid detection, the mild-mannered Sprite raised her gaze from the bundle of flowers clutched tightly in her hands, and froze in place.

A moment passed in absolute stillness, neither daring to move or speak or even breathe, as though the slightest disturbance would shatter the illusion – then it ended just as abruptly, the bouquet spilling onto the floor as the Sprite he had once considered just one of many obstacles finally spoke.

“… Ledah…” 

Hearing his name spoken aloud after all this time was a shock to the system, and Ledah found himself feeling almost unbearably uneasy, his pulse racing and his heart threatening to burst out of his no-doubt fragile ribcage.

It was as though the Gods had finally seemed to reclaim the breath he had undeservedly taken, if the overwhelming ache in his lungs were any indication, but he refused to look away, keeping his former enemy fixed under his cold gaze as if he hadn't just before been altogether ready to meet his end at the hands of her kin.

But it is only enough to keep the Sprite in her place for a time. She took a single step forward, then another, crushing the long forgotten petals of memoriam beneath her feet as she approached. Her pace was uncertain, uneasy, yet she seemed almost entranced, unable to keep herself from the presumed apparition despite her better judgement.

“It's really you, isn’t it…? Ledah…”

Ledah offered her no response, nor did he imagine he could – his voice had gone unused for so long that he doubted it would come forth even if he willed it to. Fia finally halts her approach, maintaining a respectful distance, yet he prepares himself for the worst nonetheless, wings unfolded and tensed. Even the slightest movement and he'd—

"It… it really is you…" Fia smiles weakly, the expression clearly painful to maintain. "Ein… we  _ all  _ though that you… that you had…"

Her eyes wandered, and Ledah knew exactly what she was looking for before she even found it – proof that her memories had not lied to her, carved deep into his form by the Diviner Skadi. She instantly recoiled, hand pressed tightly to her mouth as she averted her eyes and trembled with horror… and Ledah looked away as well, feeling a frustrating surge of emotion he could only just barely recognize as guilt.

It was no surprise to him when her knees gave out just a moment after, and she crumpled to the floor, clearly struggling to maintain her composure – she was proficient in healing, if Ledah recalled correctly, but he doubted she had ever been exposed to such a horrendous wound. He paused a moment, then, against his better judgement, sat down before her, wings folding back over his form in order to obscure the severity of his injuries.

Fia's trembling breath soon giving way to an uneasy quiet, and the two remained there for a time, settling upon that makeshift memorial of flowers and glass.

"I'm sorry," Fia managed finally, voice still quivering slightly. "I shouldn't have reacted like that… That wasn't fair. I just didn't think… I didn't realize that…"

Ledah didn't reply. He didn't really think she was expecting a response to begin with.

"Ledah… You  _ did  _ die back then, didn't you…"

Distinctly not a question. But this time, Ledah nods.

"… Then… Is this… Are  _ you  _ real…?"

Ledah hesitated. He wasn't entirely sure himself whether or not he was real, or alive – but the time spent aimlessly wandering until then, the pain reverberating through his abdomen… these at least  _ feel  _ real enough. He nods again, but not without uncertainty.

"Then how…? I mean… Maybe I shouldn't be surprised, seeing as I, too…" She swallowed uneasily. "But Ursula said…"

She shakes her head, trying to clear her thoughts, then smiles awkwardly at him.

"I… guess it doesn't matter how it happened, huh…? You're here now." Her voice falters, and she quickly lowers her head to hide her expression, just a moment too late. "Ein would be… so happy to hear it…"

A sensation hit Ledah so suddenly, with so much force, wrapping so tightly around his heart that he could not possibly mistake it. Dread.

"Ein...?"

His voice sounded strange, weakened by disuse, and Fia turned away immediately, unable to keep tears from welling up and spilling over.

"Ein is… no longer with us…"

Ledah didn't hear the rest of the Sprite's words with any clarity. He just barely caught glimpses of it – how Ein had become increasingly weak, how his Familiar had informed them all of the inevitable fate of Grim Angels far too late for them to be prepared – but her voice sounded far away, as if she were speaking to him from the sunken city rather than just before him. In an instant his chest felt unbearably tight, his breath squeezed from his lungs by the pain washing over him. For a moment its intensity even outweighs that of his festering insides, causing his vision to swim and blur without the aid of tears. 

Ein had died.

He didn't know why he was so affected by this news. It was to be expected. Grim Angels were meant to return to the soil in time, the power of the Gods granted to them eventually simply too much for their bodies to handle. If anything, it was no small wonder that fate had not yet caught up to him in his time wandering. Nevertheless, it was a fate he had always been accepting of. He could recall with surprising clarity the amount of his companions who had met that very fate before they could even wake to answer Hector's call. It was simply how things were.

And yet, Ein was different, somehow.

He had not missed emotion when he had forsaken it, and he most certainly did not now – it had a terrible way of influencing your physical wellbeing, leaving you aching and breathless. And somehow, the news of Ein's passing had left him worse than he could ever recall feeling, even in those final moments leading up to his presumed demise.

_ Ein was dead. _

Despite everything he managed to tune in just enough to hear the last of the Sprite's mourning… though he immediately wished he hadn't. 

"He came here every day, leaving flowers when he could..." she murmured, clutching her skirt in fistfuls tight enough to strain her knuckles. "He… even called out to you, then. Before he…"

That was worse. So much worse.

"I see," was all he managed to get out. 

There was a lengthy silence between the two before Fia spoke again, wiping at her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I know the two of you were close…" She smiles weakly. "It would have made him really happy, knowing you came back."

Ledah couldn't answer if he wanted to. Fia remained quiet a moment longer, then shifted uneasily, clearly aware of the awkward tension she had caused with her careless words.

"... I, ah… So… where… have you been, Ledah…? Is there somewhere you're staying…?"

Without particularly thinking, Ledah shook his head. His thoughts were still elsewhere, far gone from the Sprite and the Aquarium and the entirety of Utgard itself. Despite his clear lack of attentiveness, Fia frowned.

"That's no good…" She mulled it over, blankly staring at the glittering fragments of the shattered Aquarium, before perking up ever so slightly and returning her gaze to the fallen Angel before her. "Well… My house isn't very big, but I think we could make room for you until we could plan things out properly with the Elder…"

This piqued Ledah's interest, despite his mind apparently doing everything in its power to escape from the situation. What did this Sprite, a former enemy of his – one he had  _ personally  _ struck in combat more than once – have to gain from such an offer…? His suspicion must have slipped into his expression more than he'd expected, as Fia quickly spoke back up, hands clasped tightly before her.

"I understand if you're not comfortable with that, though…! We could also… let you stay in  _ his  _ house, for now…" She smiled sadly. "I'd have to ask Rose, of course – she's still living there, even now. But I think… I  _ know  _ Ein would be happy with that."

Ledah paused.

The idea that Ein had made a home for himself in Utgard, rather than return to the inevitable ruins of Asgard, was entirely unsurprising. His place was among the Sprites, not the Angels. And even without his complete separation from his former name and title, Ledah felt safe assuming that the structures of their cities would have been much more suitable for the Wingless Angel. (He had no way of knowing that many Sprites also had wings, of course.)

But the idea of staying in that home… of being constantly reminded of the life he had lived…

It was unbearable. 

It would be torture.

And yet… Some part of him wanted to know. At least for a short time. He wanted to know what sort of life Ein had led after everything had come to an end. Before he too had paid the cost of the Gods' taboo.

If the Sprite before him were being honest – and he felt inclined to believe her, at least on this matter – Ein had visited his final resting place time after time.

The very least Ledah could do for his former companion now was to return the favor. 

"... Perhaps… for a time."

Fia perked up immediately, turning to face him with notable surprise. He had already begun to regret this decision, and almost put word to his insistence to merely visit – but he refrained. Something told him that she was already well aware.

"I'm glad… Perhaps it's strange, but… I'd feel just awful letting you wander out there on your own. You're terribly injured, after all…" She paused, eyes wandering again to the gaping, weeping wound in Ledah's abdomen before she forcibly tears them away with a shudder. "... I have to tell Rose and the Elder, of course, but we'll also need to treat you first…"

Ledah understood her meaning – no one would be particularly receptive to a bloodstained stranger wandering into their town, spilling rot with every step and scarring their poor children for a lifetime – yet his wings twitched in response, and he found himself ever-so-slightly self conscious about their extreme state of disarray.

"Right. And even then…"

"I know." Fia smiled. "You don't have to stay, Ledah. I won't ask you to. But you deserve the comfort of knowing that someone, somewhere has their doors open to you." She pauses a moment, thinking things over, then laughs softly. "I think Rose would like the company, too. Though you might not recognize her as she is…"

Ledah gave her a quizzical look, but decided against asking. He supposed he would simply have to find out for himself.

Or perhaps he was just looking for an excuse.

Nevertheless, he owed Ein this much. At the very least, he could use whatever time he had been granted to memorialize his former partner. Even if it wasn't half as much as had been done in his name, anything would be better than wasting his life wandering Utgard without goal or purpose while Ein had been laid to rest long before his due.

Besides. Surely even this ill-begotten life was still held to the same restrictions as his life as a Grim Angel. Regardless of what he did… it was only a matter of time before he, too, returned to the earth a final time.

Ein would not have to wait without him for long.

"Alright."

Fia beamed, and Ledah averted his eyes almost reflexively. It would take some time before he was comfortable with his former enemies showing him such a bright expression. 

"Alright…! I'll head back to Elendia and ready everyone." She rose to her feet, dusting off her dress, then hesitated, glancing down at Ledah again. "You… Will you be okay waiting here…?"

Ledah knew what she meant, but was unsure of the answer, in all honesty. For all he knew, he could die the very moment she left, be it from succumbing to his severely neglected injuries or the inevitable fate of Grim Angels catching up with him. But he supposed it wouldn't do any good to tell her that.

"I'm fine."

Fia nodded slowly, clearly still a little uneasy, then smiled once again. His word would simply have to do.

"Okay. Then… I'll see you again soon, Ledah."

There was another moment of hesitation – it seemed as there was something else Fia had left unsaid, or undone – but the Sprite thought better of it, instead bowing her head and taking her leave quickly, leaving Ledah to idle in the now silent Aquarium.

He wasn't entirely sure what to make of his thoughts. Part of him had already received the clarity of hindsight, and that part chastised him terribly for his decision – the opportunity to live a peaceful life, especially among the Sprites, was not something he deserved. It would be altogether better to return to wandering, rather than allow himself to indulge in a life that Ein had been deprived of far too soon. 

And yet…

Another part of him, one that had become more and more prevalent in his mind, encouraged him to spend the new life he had been given differently than he had before. He was no longer a Grim Angel, but wasn't that all the more reason to abandon that way of thinking? Surely the Gods were giving him a second chance!

Wasn't this… what Ein would have wanted…?

… Such a thought process was admittedly very uncomfortable for the Angel who had sacrificed his emotions, and he quickly shut it down, refusing to allow himself to think on it further. It wouldn't do him any good to get emotional over this. After all, it's altogether possible that Fia could return with terrible news… if she returned at all.

Yet as he waited there, settled upon the countless scattered offerings for a life that had long since met its end, a sense of purpose settled over him. It was not nearly as intense as that of his former duty, nor as pressing – but it was prevalent nonetheless, gently urging him onward in a voice he could no longer hear. He would see to the life Ein had left behind, and then, once he was satisfied, he would allow the Gods to reclaim the life he had been unduly granted. 

And perhaps… that wouldn't be too bad.


End file.
